


The Angel of Silence

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: castiel and gabriel as hunters, dean as an angel, reverse au, sam as a demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't know what the end of the world will look like. He assumes it will be silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angel of Silence

They shared a silence. Most people wouldn’t guess it having met Gabriel, but he was a man of profound and long silences. Castiel had perfected the art of stillness as a child under Gabriel’s unconscious tutelage. Together they were capable of not speaking for days, maintaining the studied hush of men with too much to say to each other. 

“Break?” Gabriel asked with a lift of an eyebrow, the slight shift of his weight on the faux leather seat. 

“Yes.” Castiel replied in the lift of his chin. 

They pulled into a truck stop. Castiel pumped gas, Gabriel bought food. They took turns going to the bathroom. Castiel blindly devoured the latest concoction of convenience store gourmet that Gabriel liked to cobble together. He’d developed a cast iron stomach over the years and burned the taste-buds off his tongue with burnt rest stop coffee. In the driver’s seat, Gabriel chewed through a pound of licorice and a bag of salted peanuts. 

The radio played a melange of pop and synthetic rock that made Castiel desperately tired. He leaned his forehead against the glass and closed his eyes, already knowing that sleep wouldn’t come. He never had learned the art of boneless ease on the road. The rumble of the car set him on edge and the knowledge that they were hurtling themselves into danger made relaxation impossible. 

It never bothered Gabriel. When they switched drivers midway through Georgia, Gabriel dropped off into a light snore before Castiel had merged back into traffic. It was brutally annoying and Castiel had to resist driving over potholes out of sheer pettiness. Instead he drove until his eyes were dry and his mouth tasted like rot. A motel, filthy and slouched in the middle as if it was embarrassed of itself, welcomed them inside. Gabriel was still yawning when he fell into one bed, face smashed into a pillow. 

“Not exactly lux accommodations.” Dean said wryly and Castiel prided himself on the way he didn’t jump. He just turned slowly to find the angel leaning in the doorway. “Couldn’t afford to upgrade a little?” 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel sat down on the edge of the other bed, weary beyond measure. “Another seal?” 

“No. Well. Probably. But mostly just checking in.” Dean looked him over carefully. “You’re tired.” 

“Obviously.” He snapped then regretted it. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.” Dean came closer. He smelled of leather and motor oil. His eyes crinkled at the edges. There was nothing powerful or immortal or unbelievable about him and yet he carried all of it with him somehow. Once he had told Castiel what he was, Castiel had never doubted it for a moment afterwards. 

“Sorry.” Castiel said again, uselessly. He felt as if he was always sorry now. Sorry for going to Hell, sorry for breaking, sorry for being saved and restored. 

“I know.” Dean pressed a hand over Castiel’s eyes, the sudden darkness disorienting. “Sleep.” 

He woke sweating in his clothes, Gabriel missing and Sam in his place on the other bed. Sam, unlike Dean, looked exactly like what he was. The potential menace in the set of his broad shoulders wasn’t mitigated in the least by the book in his large hands. The hair that dropped over his sly eyes couldn’t hide the calculation that shone there. 

“What do you want?” Castiel asked, rasping despite his eight hours of rest. 

“Nothing.” Sam closed the book carefully, left Castiel’s bookmark in place. “Dean was worried.” 

“And he sent you to watch out for me?” 

“He did.” Sam swung his legs down, the soles of his cheap tennis shoes hitting the floor with a whispered thump. 

“I don’t understand you.” Castiel stared up at the ceiling. 

“Get in line.” Sam shrugged. “Gabriel’s getting you breakfast. Take a shower.” 

Castiel reluctantly followed direction. When he emerged there was a pile of neatly folded clothes on his bed. They smelled better than anything in his duffel bag. Part of him wanted to ignore them on principle, but it had been weeks since they’d done proper laundry. 

“Demons use fabric softener.” He told Gabriel when his brother returned with a massive McDonalds sack. 

“Sensitive skinned demons. Learn something new every day.” 

They don’t talk about Sam. They don’t talk about Dean. They certainly don’t talk about the end of the world. Not over breakfast. Not even when one of the disgustingly greasy breakfast sandwiches emerges from the wrapper as cup of greek yogurt, granola and fresh strawberries. Castiel stared at it. Gabriel stared at him. 

The yogurt sat placidly as yogurt was wont to do. 

Castiel ate it. It was cool as it slide down his parched throat and the strawberries burst over his usually lifeless tongue. The world had become a stranger place than he knew how to deal with and he had dealt with a fair amount of weird in his short life. 

There was a werewolf in the bayou, masquerading as a ghost. It sounded like a far more interesting case than it turned out to be. Gabriel had found it, Castiel had done the research and they’d both tussled with the wolf through ill smelling swamp. It died a particularly messy death, the corpse snatched up by an alligator before they could consider how they’d handle clean up. 

“That’s efficient.” Gabriel watched the alligator cautiously. 

“We’re going North after this.” Castiel said miserably. 

They didn’t. There was another case in Louisiana, a genuine haunting this time and possibly a seal. 

“It’s hard to tell.” Dean looked nearly apologetic in the flickering fluorescent light. They were at a diner and even though Dean didn’t need to eat, he’d ordered a piece of pie. 

“Why is it so fucking hard?” Gabriel asked, not angry. More defeated and it smashed the shattered pieces of Castiel’s heart in glittering dust. 

“If it was easy, then we wouldn’t need the two of you.” Dean’s fork slide through gloppy cherry. 

The bell over the door chimed, letting Sam inside. He moved toward them as if magnetized. By the time he reached the booth, Dean was gone. Sam slid into his place and picked up the abandoned fork as if it had been slice all along. 

“It’s a seal.” He speared one dripping cherry and held it up to the light. “It’s getting harder for me to get information though. No one’s loose lipped these days.” 

“Sorry to hear that, princess.” Gabriel leaned across the table, stole the slice out from under Sam’s fork. “Your life is a sad song.” 

“You’ve got no idea.” Sam smiled grimly. “And it’s about to get sadder.” 

Castiel and Gabriel drove. Probably Dean could have zapped them and saved them precious time, but the angel didn’t return in Sam’s wake. 

“Maybe they’re the same person.” Gabriel picked out a CD from the stack in the armrest. The cover was pink and the sound jagged. A girl screaming her pain as if it would release it. 

“Who?” Castiel scrubbed at his eyes. 

“Sam and Dean. We never see them in the same place.” 

Apparently they were talking again. Apparently they were talking about the angel and demon that flit in and out of their lives with apocalyptic tidings. It took Castiel off guard, even as it warmed him. They had silences, but Castiel had never said he preferred them. 

“If they were one entity, what would they be? Angel or demon?” 

“Both. Neither. Maybe something new.” Gabriel’s grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled, even as he smiled. “Maybe something too old for us to understand. Maybe they’re a two headed dragon.” 

“There’s no such thing as dragons.” Castiel said automatically. 

“You don’t know that.” Gabriel whipped back, practiced. “There’s more things than you dream up in your philosophy.” 

“That’s not how that line goes.” 

“Flexibility is important, you rigid fucker.” 

It’s a cheerful kind of bickering, the sort of thing they used to engage in all the time. It made Castiel ache with longing even as he laughed. He missed the days of just the two of them in the car without history building walls between them. Sure he’d loathed Gabriel back then, but it had been an honest little brother kind of hate that switched to love at the drop of a hat. 

“Good to see you smiling.” Dean popped into reality in the backseat. His perpetual jeans and leather jacket look out of place against the Beetle’s beaten gray interior. 

“Jesus fuck!” Gabriel swerved. “You’ve got to stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” Dean asked mildly, winking at Castiel. It made Castiel smile wider though he hid it in his hands. “Heya, Cas.” 

“Hello, Dean.” He said gravely, the smile retreating. “Are we in danger?” 

“No more than you were this morning. The ghost isn’t the seal, but you should probably deal with it anyway. There’s one close by, so stay put when you’re done.” 

“Why can’t you deal with the haunting?” Gabriel asked, arching a brow. “Little angel too scared to beat up a ghost?” 

“Little angel has to go take on the Leviathan. Unless you’ve got Michael’s sword hidden in your armory, it’s probably going to kill me.” Dean shrugged when Castiel swung around to glare at him. “I’m tough, I might make it.” 

“You are not to die. I won’t deal with the rest of them.” 

“If I die, you won’t. Sam’ll have your backs.” 

“Sam is-” 

“My brother.” Dean said with the kind of firmness commandments were laid down with. “He knows what I know. You can trust him.” 

“You keep saying that, but we never see you two in the same place at the same time.” Gabriel glared into the rearview mirror. 

“You never get in fights with your brother?” Dean put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Be careful.” 

“You too.” 

Then Dean was gone, leaving the press of warmth on Castiel’s shirt. Gabriel slammed on the brakes, parking the Beetle on the side of the road as other driver’s blared horns at them. Castiel waited for an explanation. 

None came. Gabriel had set his head on the rim of the steering wheel. Tentative, Castiel reached out and rested his hand between Gabriel’s shoulder blades. 

“I used to enjoy this.” Gabriel sounded muffled, not lifting up to speak. “We used to have fun.” 

“I remember.” Though Castiel would never have designated anything related to hunting as fun. At least it hadn’t been this slow painful dread-filled grind. 

“I miss you.” Gabriel groaned. “God. I’m never saying anything like that again. It sounds worse out loud.” 

“I’m right here.” Castiel gave his hand more weight, clasped Gabriel’s shoulder as Dean had clasped his. 

“Are you?” Gabriel turned, his eyes were red rimmed. 

“Yes.” And it was true for the first time in weeks. 

It was better and worse after that. They rooted out the ghost amid the kind of humidity that labored the breath and sank into the bones. Castiel slogged through it, wiping his forehead on stained bandana Gabriel kept at the bottom of his bag. 

He had to use it to hold Gabriel’s thigh together after the ghost threw him into the fire place. 

“Ouch.” Sam walked into the motel’s tiny bathroom as Castiel struggled to stitch the wound together. “How’d that happen?” 

“I walked into a door.” Gabriel said dryly. 

Sam laughed. It was low and unexpected and it made Gabriel smile. Castiel glanced uneasily between them. 

“Dearest Dean who art in heaven,” Sam began, “we need thou feathery might.” 

“I’m handling it.” Castiel brandished the needle. 

“I can see that.” Dean popped in next to Sam. The bathroom became impossibly cramped. “But as much as Gabriel could use another festive scar....” 

It only took a touch to do what had stained Castiel’s hands for the past half hour. The skin looked perfect, if hairless. Mended as if it had never been wounded. Castiel ran water over his fingers and watched the brown tinted stream carry the evidence down the drain. He watched Dean and Sam in the mirror. They stood apart, feet between them. Their hands twitched as if they both wanted to reach out and didn’t know how to begin. 

“I’m getting shitfaced.” Gabriel announced. “Who’s with me?” 

Castiel didn’t drink and Dean couldn’t drink enough to get drunk without breaking a few laws. They sat together and watched as Gabriel ordered shot after shot for Sam and himself. The demon drank with the wry amusement. 

“Can he get drunk?” 

“Easier than I can.” Dean sipped at a beer for appearances sake. “But that’s still a far cry from human.” 

Sam carried Gabriel back to the motel, bridal style barely listing himself. Dean and Castiel trailed behind. Castiel because he found his brother’s drunken state nearly painful and Dean because- 

“I wish there was more time.” He spoke quietly as if he could keep his words a secret from the thousand other forces of the universe. “I think we’re losing.” 

“I’m glad the Leviathan didn’t kill you. That is a day won.” 

“Is it?” Dean sighed. “It came close. There’s so much out there, Cas. So many jagged teeth waiting to bite.” 

“I know.” He said because he did. “I wish I could help.” 

“You’re doing enough.” 

“It isn’t ever enough.” 

When he fell asleep, Sam was sitting at the tiny table with Dean perched on its surface beside him. They were talking, but no matter how Castiel strained he couldn’t tell what they were saying. When he woke they were both gone and Gabriel was obscenely cheerful. 

“I think Dean sobered me up before I fell asleep!” Gabriel cackled. “I feel like a million bucks. Think I can hire him to come along on binges after the end of the world?” 

“Only if you also hire Sam as your personal pony.” Castiel said dead faced. “He looked quite content carrying you.” 

“He didn’t.” Gabriel frowned. 

“He did. Like a sack of recently married potatoes.” 

“Touched by an angel, carted around by a demon. We’re living in style, bro.” 

Castiel looked deliberately around the motel room, then lifted his eyebrow. 

“Aw, shut up.” Gabriel pushed him and he collapsed backwards onto the mattress. “If Lucifer wins, we’ll live in a penthouse while the world burns.” 

Castiel wasn’t prepared to joke about it yet, but he was ready to smile. He knew if the end really came, Gabriel would be fighting with blood on his teeth until the last ragged breath left his lungs. It was pleasant to imagine toasting the last sunrise with champagne instead. 

“Do you think we can still win?” Castiel had to ask though it was hours later and they were headed into Florida. Castiel wished desperately for cooler climes. The heat curled under his skin and made him ooze sweat. 

“I don’t know what winning would look like.” The Beetle’s tweaked engine hummed, edging them through traffic. 

“No Lucifer burning down the world?” 

“And what then?” Gabriel sighed. “What do we do after that?” 

Castiel didn’t have an answer. 

“There’s an option.” Sam told them, glancing at Dean whenever the angel looked away. 

It was another shitty room, another too long night. Castiel folded himself over the back of a rickety chair, chin resting on the top. Gabriel was pacing, all energy and nerves. He’d been talking stratgey in the loose free-associating way he had. None of it made much sense, but at least Gabriel was trying. Castiel had lapsed into silence again, set adrift from the very real danger they were in. 

“Hey.” Dean set his hand on the back of Castiel’s neck, shook just the slightest bit. “You with me?” 

And just like that, Castiel was. 

“There’s an option.” Sam repeated patiently. 

“What option?” Gabriel flopped backwards onto one bed, the springs creaking ominously beneath him. 

“There’s my blood.” Sam looked Gabriel’s prone body, dry as fact and hot as a furnace. 

“No.” Castiel said before Gabriel could utter a word. There’d already been one dance with that devil, a beguiling woman that strung Gabriel through a few sessions. She’d been banking on Gabriel’s addiction, on good will built up saving them in the nick of time. 

She didn’t know how Hell had left Castiel ruthless and unwilling to bend. She didn’t count on him following her with obsessive interest. She didn’t count on her own precious knife sliced up through her ribs without time for one of her persuasive conversations. He’d brought a lock her hair back for Gabriel. 

“No more.” Was all he’d said then. And ‘no’ was all he’d say now. 

“That’s not up to you.” Sam kept his eyes on Gabriel. 

“Come with me.” Dean put his hands over Castiel’s eyes before he could protest. 

“Please.” Castiel didn’t open them when the sensation of travel ceased. “Please don’t let him do this.” 

“He needs to decide for himself.” Dean sighed. “Open up. I took you somewhere nice for once, so you might as well appreciate it.” 

Castiel reluctantly opened his eyes. 

“Dean.” He said gravely, not daring to move. “Is this the Grand Canyon?” 

“Yep.” Dean sat on the edge, feet dangling down. “You should sit.” 

Dizzily, Castiel sat. He stared over the burnt umber and oranges and the blue trail of the river. It was awesome, in the original sense of the word. He felt tiny in its presence. 

“Where is He?” He asked. 

“I wish I knew.” Dean reached for Castiel’s hand. “I wish I knew where to look.” 

“Why did He leave us?” 

“Are you talking about your father or mine?” 

“I thought your father was meant to take care of us all.” Castiel let Dean’s fingers capture his. 

“Everyone’s got to grow up sometimes, I guess.” 

“I’m not ready.” 

“Yeah.” Dean edged closer, the lines of his borrowed flesh touching every point of Castiel’s side. “Neither am I.” 

They went back only an hour later. They’d sat in silence for the rest of it, but it wasn’t the fetid quiet of the past year in the Beetle. It had a healing quality to it, Dean’s hand strong around his own. 

Sam hadn’t moved from his seat at the table though he had opened his book again. Gabriel had the laptop open beside him, typing with a rapidity that shouldn’t be possible when only using two fingers. Castiel went to him immediately, his whole body a question.

“Your faith in me is startling.” Gabriel didn’t quite look up. “Of course, I said no.” 

The way Gabriel’s fingertips cracked against the keys suggested that it wasn’t as black and white as all that. Castiel sank to his knees in relief, pressed his forehead Gabriel’s thigh. At least if the world ended, they would face it sane together. As sane as they’d ever been anyway. Gabriel’s hand dropped into his hair, a slow scratch that called back distant moments of childhood. 

“Are we fucked?” Gabriel asked, keeping up the caress. 

“No.” Castiel could hear Sam’s smile. “I don’t think we are at all. I have to go underground for awhile. Deep, if you know what I’m saying. Lilith has her fingers in a lot of pies. One of them is bound to be one I’ve...fingered myself.” 

“Gross.” Dean said with a laugh. “Good to know you’re keeping up the lifestyle.” 

“I’m chaste.” Sam sighed. “I wouldn’t...you know that.” 

“I know.” Dean’s voice changed, went rough and deep. “Go with God, Samael.” 

“And you, Dumah.” Sam rose and then his feet were gone from Castiel’s sight. 

“It was a test.” Gabriel said gruffly. “Another angel test.” 

“It was Sam’s test, not mine. My side seems keen on you falling into a hedonistic lifestyle replete with blood. Don’t ask me why. He was the one who said you had to be able to resist.” The toe of Dean’s boot nudged at Castiel’s calf. “I’ve got to head out too. Gather intel.” 

“Be safe.” Castiel murmured. 

“You too.” 

In the wake left by the supernatural, Castiel listened to the all too natural shift of Gabriel’s muscle and the gurgle of his stomach. When his knees began to ache, he stood reluctantly, only to have Gabriel tumble him into his lap. They didn’t fit together like this anymore, hadn’t in years, but Castiel curled up as best he could anyway. 

Gabriel smelled like fire at the nape of his neck. A rasp of woodsmoke that never faded. It scared Castiel almost as much as it comforted him. 

They slapped seals closed while others flew open. They raced across the south into the midwest where the long dry summer sent dust down Castiel’s throat and into Gabriel’s hair. Dean and Sam stayed absent longer and longer. The information the hunters ran on got slimmer and slimmer. 

“There’s an end to all things.” Zachariah told them outside of Austin. “I’ve told you boys that.” 

“We’re doing the best we can.” Gabriel snarled. 

“Are you?” Zachariah raised an imperious eyebrow.   
Castiel slapped his bleeding hand to the symbol they’d painted on the back of the door. One of many tricks Dean had taught them. 

“Was that smart?” Gabriel asked even as he grinned. 

“Probably not.” Castiel pressed the ruined bandanna to his own hand. It was still stiff with Gabriel’s blood, but that was all right. They bled together. 

“We need to change tactics.” Gabriel tied the bandanna around the wound, pressing on the cut. “We’re chasing the wrong thing. Let’s aim for Lilith instead.” 

They had both been itching for a real hunt. The big game. Castiel didn’t need to be persuaded. Finding her was nearly impossible without aid, but they did their best. They chased her upwards to Utah and then Missouri and Tennessee. It stayed hot, the shell of Beetle burning Castiel’s hand whenever he ducked into the passenger seat. 

They buried the bodies they found along the way. Salted and burned the ones they made. Angels popped in regularly to tell them off until they discovered that was one way ticket out of town every time. They took turn drawing the bloody sigils wherever they went. 

“Interfering fuckwads.” Gabriel would say. 

“Except Dean.” 

“Yeah, good all Dumah. Wherever the hell he is.” 

Castiel went to sleep in tall grass, his trenchcoat as blanket, Gabriel’s thigh as pillow. It was better than a hotel room. The heat wavering sky reminded him of the Canyon. The smell of yeast followed him into darkness. 

When he woke, the sun was just rising and Dean was watching him. There was blood on the angel’s face as if he’d been crying the worst kind of tears. Gabriel slept on, one hand in Castiel’s hair. 

“Come here.” Castiel demanded, too tired to ask questions. 

Dean went, his head in the crook of Castiel’s shoulder. They watched the sunrise and the light spilled into their eyes. 

“I know where the last seal will break.” Dean turned his head, brushing something like a kiss over Castiel’s heart. “They sent me to take you. To store you while it shatters. They want this to happen.” 

“We suspected that.” Castiel reminded him. 

“Suspected isn’t the same as knew.” Dean swallowed hard. “I lost a brother once because he turned his back on our Father. I can’t gain him back just to lose the rest of them.” 

“You can.” Castiel felt Gabriel shift, hip bone sharp beneath him. “Sam is worth all the rest of them. And humanity doesn’t deserve any of this at all.” 

“Maybe a little.” Gabriel rumbled. “But not the end of the world.” 

“Just so.” Castiel agreed. 

“I’ll stay with you.” Dean’s voice was so brittle, it could have shattered into tears. Castiel wasn’t sure he could stand to watch an angel weep. “I’ll help you.” 

“Thank you.” Castiel clutched Dean tight. “I know what it costs you.” 

“No.” Dean buried his face into Castiel’s shirt. “You don’t.” 

Dean wouldn’t risk traveling on wing. They drove torturous hours toward St. Mary’s and it could have been silent. They could have spent those last hours in contemplation and grief. 

“Tell me about the girls in Tulsa.” Castiel turned to Gabriel. “The ones with the matching hairdos.” 

“The pigtail twins!” Gabriel lit up. “You hate that story.” 

“I do.” He agreed. “But Dean hasn’t heard it.” 

“I guess he hasn’t. Well see, Cas here had the flu and refused to go out with me-” 

Castiel let his brother’s voice wash over him. He held Dean’s gaze in the mirror. For a fierce, surprising moment, he missed Sam. He should be there with them. He wondered if the demon had perished. 

The chapel was dark when they finally walked inside, their steps echoing on the marble. Castiel turned on their emergency lanterns, left them blazing in the corners of the room and one on the altar itself. 

Lilith came in just as he switched it on. She was dressed all in white, hair loose in a body older than she normally liked. A barefoot bride, she approached the altar where Castiel stood. He drew a knife. 

“Ah, ah, little boy.” She paused and whipped it from his hand. “None of that from you. I’ll take the eldest with me to the end.” 

“The only place you’re going is to your grave.” Gabriel advanced on her, Ruby’s knife in his hand. 

“You don’t have it in you.” She spread her arms wide. “Come on lover boy.” 

Gabriel lunged and came to an abrupt stop. Dean’s hand was fisted in the collar of his shirt. 

“Let me go!” Gabriel demanded while Lilith cackled. “What are you working for her?” 

“No.” Dean cocked his head to the side, eyes widening slowly. “Sam.” 

“What about Sam?” 

“I hear him.” Dean turned to open the great doors of the chapel, but before he could reach them Lilith launched herself onto his back. 

“Get the doors!” Castiel bellowed, running to pry Lilith from Dean. 

“But-” Gabriel began. 

“Now! Let him in!” 

“You don’t even trust him!” 

“Gabriel!” Castiel snapped. “You trust me and I'm telling you to open the damn doors.” 

Gabriel turned without another word. He struggled with the doors as Castiel and Dean wrestled with Lilith. Pain shattered through Castiel’s consciousness. He shoved it away as irrelevant. A great crack rattled the room. 

Sam stood in the ruined doorway, hands beaten to a bloody pulp and his eyes not black or red, but a throbbing silver that cracked the corner of his eyes and ruptured his cheeks. 

“Dumah! Do not kill her!” Sam’s voice echoed. “Her death is the final seal.” 

“Fuck.” Gabriel joined in the fight to subdue Lilith, dropping Ruby’s knife at Sam’s feet. 

Smoke issued from the host’s mouth and Castiel’s stomach sunk. This was a game they could play forever. Catching and releasing her, never daring to let her close to this place, but unable to stray far from it themselves in their guard duty. 

“In the name of the Word and with the word that is the Name,” Sam spread his hands wide, “I bind thee.” 

“Can he do that?” Gabriel asked, wild eyed. 

“No.” Dean blinked. 

“I bind thee.” Sam said again. “With the Word and the Name.” 

The smoke stilled, hesitant. 

“I Name thee Lilith. I call thee Demon and I bind thee to thy chosen flesh.” Sam took up Ruby’s blade. “With the blood of one who was once favored by Him.” 

“And the blood of one still so blessed.” Dean turned his brother, held out his palm. 

The blade licked over both their palms. Light flashed, blinding and Castiel had to look away. Spots danced in front of him for minutes afterwards. Lilith never left his grip and he could still scent Gabriel’s woodsmoke lingering close by. 

He heard something nearly like singing and it sounded so familar. 

“I know that song.” He said nonsensically, grasping for the memory. 

“It’s what I sang as I lifted you from perdition.” Dean filled up his senses, so close now. “It’s a rejoicing.” 

“Have we won then?” 

“Something like that.” Dean shifted. “I’ll find a place to keep her, away from all that would use her. She can sleep a thousand years.” 

“A thousand thousand.” Castiel said roughly, then passed out. 

He woke in a soft bed, Gabriel limp beside him. Sitting up slowly, he found whatever wounds he had healed though his vision remained a little spotty. The room looked expensive, the carpet plush under his feet. He found a well appointed bathroom and used it. If they were in danger, then meeting in with an empty bladder and clean hair couldn’t hurt. 

There were two robes hanging on a hook. He shrugged into one, belting it firmly before shuffling back into the bedroom. Gabriel slept on though he had turned to bury his face in Castiel’s pillow. A sliding glass door stood open. Castiel went through it. 

The morning was beautifully cool and dry. Sam sat at small table, breakfast things arrayed around a french press. Castiel sat down beside him and poured himself a cup of dark coffee. 

“Are we waiting for the world to end?” 

“No idea.” Sam buttered half of a corn muffin. “Maybe for it to start.” 

Gabriel joined them eventually, shirt missing, but jeans still slung low around his hips. He leaned over the wrought iron of the balcony and looked out over the anonymous city. Fumbling in one pocket, he withdrew a cigarette and lit it from a tired book of matches. The smoke wound upwards towards the rising sun. 

“Lucifer isn’t walking around out there?” He asked, blowing an ‘O’ toward Sam. 

“No.” Sam waved it away. “He shouldn’t ever now. Or at least, not in your lifetimes. Apocalypse averted.” 

“So.” Gabriel turned, elbows jutting out over the side. “What now, Cas?” 

Castiel took a sip of his coffee, “I don’t know. I suppose we go on as we did before. Saving people.” 

“Hunting things.” Gabriel flicked the half-finished cigarette over the side. 

“The family business.” Sam said wryly. “Look at you two.” 

“Thing about family is that its a malleable definition.” Gabriel grinned. “Isn’t that right, o brother of mine?” 

Gabriel had never flexed the definition before. Family meant them and Dad. Castiel looked to Sam, who waited in silence. 

“What are you now?” He asked instead of answering Gabriel’s question. 

“What I’ve always been.” Sam bit into his muffin. “Little of column a, little of column d.” 

“Same as me, I guess.” Dean flickered into existence, exhaustion writ large on him. He leaned into Castiel. “I’ve been crossed off the family tree.” 

“Did you fall?” A lump rose in Castiel’s throats. 

“No. Yes? Sort of.” Dean laughed weakly. “Little of column a, little of column d.” 

“I figure two halves of an angel, two halves of demon works out to better than just mortals.” Gabriel shrugged. “You’re welcome to travel with us.” 

“We’ll need a bigger car.” Castiel licked his lips, tugged Dean marginally closer. 

“I like Chevys.” Dean mumbled. “Big black ones.” 

“You’ve got the worst taste.” Sam rolled his eyes. “We should get something fast.” 

In the end, it’s a sensible sedan with room enough for two in the back. They jostle positions all the time. Despite Castiel and Gabriel’s healing rift and the massive amount of history Sam and Dean carry with them, they don’t fight much. They don’t talk much at all. 

“Don’t you know?” Sam laughed when Castiel brought it up to him. “It’s Dean, it’s always Dean.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Dumah is the angel of silence.” Sam shrugged. “And death. And so was I. That’s what made us brothers above the others. Death and silence. We carry it with us no matter how far we go.” 

“Yes.” Castiel could see it now, laid out before him. “So do we.”


End file.
